Artificial Insemination

Even though I live in Texas, a state with probably a billion head of cattle, it wasn't until I came to Whidbey Island in Washington State that I learned how to artificially inseminate a cow. 

First you need some cows.... 

....and you need a team.

 Bob, David, Analee, and Doug

  Our team consisted of Doug (Hobart's dentist), David (Doug and Hobart's friend and Hobart's fellow retired United Methodist minister), Bob (the veterinarian), and Analee (Doug's 83-year-old mother).  Doug-the-Dentist was the head of the team because he's the one who owns the cows.  David was the chute opener, closer, and cow-head clamper.  Analee was the herder and corral gate opener and closer.  Bob was the inseminator.

 David, friend and retired minister

Doug, the dentist and cattle owner

 Bob, the vet

Analee, Doug's 83-year old mother

While Bob explains to Hobart what he is going to do...

...Doug is picking out a cow.

His mother...

...and David...

...help herd it out of the pen and into the chute.

Then David, with Doug's help, clamps the cow into place. 

There now.  The cow is ready.  I think Doug is telling her to relax--it will be over soon.  

Now Doug has decisions to make....I think concerning which bull sperm to use.  There's a lot of scientific information to consider, but I wasn't listening very carefully.  I was too busy taking pictures.

Then the serious part!  If I had really thought about it, I might have gone back to the car.  But I bravely stood my ground and watched.

First Bob-the-Vet puts on this long glove that covers his whole arm.  (Big clue as to what is coming!)  

He then steps into the chute behind the cow and his arm disappears into the cow!  I'm not sure what happens in the next few minutes, but it involves a long tube instrument and some gentle protest mooing from the cow.    

(Hobart took this picture.  He was trying to reserve some dignity for the poor cow...but you get the idea.) 

So one down, and dozens more to go.  We chatted with the team and then left to go have lunch. 

Lunch?.........MEATLOAF!  

Home

Thirteen years ago Jim and I bought this house.  We immediately added a studio and workshop, installed plantation shutters and had the driveway and sidewalks coated.  We moved in, painted some walls and gradually turned a house into our home.  We loved the back view which looked onto the fifth fairway of the Nutcracker golf course.  Often there were deer wandering through our yard and occasionally a goose or two. 

Every once in a while wild turkeys would make a brief appearance and we'd whip out our cameras. One day a doe left her baby in our yard while she went off to eat.  He was there all day, patiently waiting until dusk when his mother came to get him. There are no street lights in Pecan Plantation which makes star gazing easy.  There are few hills which is perfect for bike riding.  We had enough bedrooms and space to accommodate kids and grandkids and friends. Jim played golf twice a week and I spent hours in the studio sewing, dyeing fabric and making art quilts. We enjoyed our home and continued to improve it, adding granite countertops and enclosing our patio to make a delightful sunroom.  

After Jim got cancer and died in 2011, I transformed our home for two into a home for me.  I replaced the beige carpet with hardwood floors, bought new furniture for the bedroom and office, and painted the walls bright colors--lime green office, coral living room, soft purple bedroom, and an eggplant front door.  Laurie Beth's family bought me a puppy so I wouldn't be lonely and Sadie Lou and I settled into our home, both of us adjusting to a new kind of life.

The phone rang in early March of 2012 and my life changed.  Enter Hobart.   I spent the summer on Whidbey Island with him and he spent the winter with me here in Texas.  Almost immediately we realized this home in Pecan Plantation is wrong for us.  All of my family and friends and all our interests are in Fort Worth.  We found a church home in Fort Worth--First United Methodist and wanted to be closer to take advantage of all it had to offer.  We grew tired of the 45 minute drive into the city, so I put the house on the market and we started looking for a home in Fort Worth.

Hobart and I at our new church Easter Sunday

Thursday we will fly back to Whidbey Island for the summer.  I suspect my house will sell while we are gone.  I've spent several months sorting and throwing and giving away the things that I no longer need or want.  The house looks good but seems empty.  The garage is cluttered with boxes from the attic that are waiting for me to go through. I will.....maybe tomorrow.  We've made our last trip to the recycling center and eaten, or thrown away, most of the food in the refrigerator.  And now it's time to say goodbye to my house. ( I notice that somewhere in the writing of this, I have switched from calling it "my home" to calling it "my house".) 

Sadie Lou is at Laurie's for the summer.  She is happy there and they love having her.  Hobart and I will do a lot of traveling this summer and I don't want to have to board her. 

Sadie Lou and Kinser

So now I am saying goodbye to my house, my home. It's going to be a good move and I'm excited to find and create a new home for us, but then I look out at the cart path where Sadie Lou and I took our walks every evening at dusk. She would run ahead of me, sticking close by except occasionally when she would dash off to chase a deer or a goose or greet another dog out for a walk.  I'll take my last bike ride tomorrow, down Equestrian past the horses and then into the air park, parallel to the runway, passing the house that has a Kansas Jayhawk on its front porch.  On our way to the airport Wednesday, we'll drive out the front gate for the last time and wave at my favorite little guard--the one with the round belly and the suspenders, who always buys lottery tickets at the filling station down the road.   

So many memories and yet it's time to leave Granbury and seek a new adventure in a new place with a new love.  My eyes well up with tears occasionally as I prepare to leave my home, but my decision to move is right.  And always I know--life is good.